


Dangereux

by imwiththeunicorn (tiatodd)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: And probably OOC, F/M, Smoking, Smoking Kink, awful, i haven't reviewed it since i posted it on dA, old, this fic is fucking ancient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:04:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6310753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiatodd/pseuds/imwiththeunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>11th of a 12 Fics of Christmas series completed in 2012. Moriarty/Reader insert smut with a smoking kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangereux

The most sardonically ironic part about this whole affair, you decided as you re-read the instructions on the paper in the hotel lobby, was that your mother had actually _specifically_ warned you not to get involved with consulting criminals. It always had a hint of jest, but it was always there; don’t fall for the bad boys, don’t stay with anyone who can hurt you, and don’t get involved with consulting criminals.  
Just waiting outside the glass elevator in this strangely ornate hotel, you were breaking all three rules at once. It sincerely bothered you sometimes, such as now, when you tapped your toes impatiently on the marble floor, eyes searching for anything that could distract you from thinking about how you were definitely this man’s bitch.  
Finally, the elevator landed and opened. You stepped in and pressed the button for the top floor, turning with your hands clasped patiently behind your back as you watched the lobby recede. It looked a bit fairytale, all big green leafy plants and koi ponds woven through with hardwood paths and bordered in marble. You did suppose that perhaps your boss was one of the more classy criminals, if you could classify that with a straight face.  
You walked across the freshly-vacuumed, patterned hallway carpet until you reached his room; door 6221. After you had fished the key card out of your bag and barely opened the door, you were instantly greeted with the lilting voice of Jim Moriarty.  
“I was wondering when you’d get here,” he said, voice drifting like a dragonfly to your ears. He had rearranged the room’s furniture, placing a large leather chair in the very middle (which he was now seated on with his legs spread wide) with a gold-colored sheet folded on the floor before it, like a rug. He didn’t look up at you, but seemed more focused on his fingernails. “Come sit on daddy’s lap.”  
Wisely, you bit your tongue and complied, walking along the sheet to stand before him. His hand swiftly spun you around and pulled you down onto one of his knees. “What did you need me for, sir?”  
“Just this,” he said simply, tuckig your hair back from your face and setting a finger to his lips, staring at a wall.  
You waited, trying not to squirm and so disturb whatever thought he was deep inside of. But it was reaching a good three minutes of just sitting on his lap in silence. “You said it was urgent?”  
“It is urgent, I’m…my leg was cold.”  
You cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”  
“Excuse _you,_ do not use that tone. Don’t talk, actually. I’ve decided I want you to do something for me.”   
“Oh, well glad we’ve got that sorted, since I had to leave a wedding for this,” you said with a very slight bitterness.  
“Is that why you’re so dolled up?” he purred, smiling a little with his wicked pointed teeth as his eyes ate you up. “I like it, it suits me.”  
“My wardrobe choice suits you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well that’s totally worth me coming all the way over here from S—mmm…” It always took your body by shock when he kissed you, because you were never aware of it until his lips had been on yours for a good second or two.  
He took you by the chin, lips casually against yours as he kissed you lazily, almost in disinterest. His eyes were open but cast down and to the right, like he was thinking. That was fine. Kissing him was nice. Simple. He almost seemed like a decent guy, just sitting there in his Westwood with a girl in his lap, kissing her softly. It almost made you forget he was a complete sociopath.  
All transition, his lips dragged down to your chin and his hand fell away to come to rest at your back. You closed your eyes, stretching your neck to the side to allow him passage as he kissed along your jugular vein. The heat of his mouth, now open on your bare clavicle, made you shiver.  
Looking down, you could see the right side of his face as he tilted his head, tonguing your collarbone. His Adam’s apple bobbed and you gasped, biting your lip, for the suction made you shudder, sending tingling sensations all over your body. He chuckled softly.  
“You’re my favorite, you know,” he said, still lipping and sucking and teething at the same spot as he ran a finger along your scooping neckline, tracing it over your shoulder to the zipper in the back. His thigh shifted under you, the loss of balance spurring you to hold on to his neck.  
“I…f-favorite of what?”  
“Well you didn’t think you were the _only_ one, did you?” The dress fell around your waist and he deftly unhooked your bra in one pinch, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the room. You tried to hold back a wanting moan as his hands caressed you, thumbs flicking over your hardening nubs. “Hmhm, excited? It isn’t _that_ cold in here.”  
“Ahm…” Your chest rose and fell with breath, the simple motion pressing your breasts into and away from his hands with enough friction to make you squirm. His hands rested on your waist, hot against your cool skin, and then he removed your dress the rest of the way, leaving you in nothing but white lace panties.  
He raised an eyebrow at you. “What exactly were you expecting at this wedding?”  
You blushed, looking down at yourself and twiddling your toes. You had actually hoped for something like this; found yourself daydreaming that Jim would for some reason show up at the wedding and demand you follow him to an unoccupied room or corner or alleyway or _something._ Lately far too many of your fantasies had to do with this man. This man who now coaxed you up to your knees to straddle him, your bare shins sticking to the leather of the chair.  
Without warning, he pressed his two middle fingers against you through the lace, and you gasped and had to brace yourself on the back of the chair. “Ah, shit…”  
“Language,” he cooed, calmly working you up into quite the heat. His fingers fell away and he grabbed you by the hips, lifting you and guiding your knees to the armrests until his face was between your thighs. You sucked the inside of your lower lip between your teeth, eyebrows pinching up as you tried not to moan because he was nuzzling. Oh, yes, he was nuzzling, and kissing, and when you dared to look down you saw his eyes closed near blissfully, lips pressed to the gentle curve of your crotch hidden under the white lace. You felt his tongue through the fabric, hot and teasingly moist on your clit. This time you did whine, desperate to have his lips directly on you.  
He chuckled, brown eyes flicking open and staring right into yours as he tucked a finger into your panties at the hip, pulling them down far too slowly. The sight got you even hotter, but that didn’t compare to the flood of sensation when his lips met those lower ones. “Ohh!”  
He took to closing his lips around your clit and slowly opening his mouth, the small traces of hair on his lips tickling you in the most delightful way, making you clench and shiver. His hands on your backside pulled you closer, tongue flicking in the most heart-wrenchingly teasing way. Your chest tightened up and you filled with the most insatiable drive to run, or to jump, or to just have really active sex. You hoped that last one was what was in store. His teeth pinched lightly on your clit and you were thrust swiftly into a complete other tier of pleasure.  
“Ah! M-Moriarty..."  
He purred your name, slipping his tongue into you. You wove your fingers into his hair, inching your knees forward until you were basically riding his face. "Ah, ahh!" You rocked your hips, tilting your head back and moaning lewdly, bringing yourself right to the brink of orgasm.  
With a pang of frustration, you felt the heat of his mouth leave your wet, wanting core as he eased you off the armrests and back to straddling his hips. "Let me--"  
"Shh," he hissed sharply, pressing a finger to your mouth and giving you a hard stare as he reached his other hand into his pocket. He practically ignored your presence, placing the orange tip of a white stick between his lips and bringing a gold lighter to the end. His eyes focused curiously on what he was doing, long eyelashes shielding his gaze as he closed the lighter and took a long drag. Now, he looked up at you, bringing his lips close to your belly, and released a stream of smoke over your skin.  
You couldn't help but find it attractive when he smoked. He controlled the wisping fumes artfully, causing them to curl around your breasts, tickle your neck sickly. You tried to control your breath in the now smoke-dense air, and he pulled down on your hips until your wet nakedness was pressed against his clothed erection. It made you wantonly proud that you could make him react like that.  
His cheeks hollowed as he took another drag, touching your lips with one finger. You opened your mouth and he practically poured the smoke into you. You choked a little when it met the back of your throat, the synthetic, bitter taste titillating to your your taste buds in all the wrong, most arousing ways.  
"Can't handle it, love?" he lulled, sipping at the cigarette. This time he let the smoke waft up into the air before taking another deep drag. Almost before he took it from his lips you place yours to his, sucking the smoke out of his mouth. You let it sit in your own for awhile, tonguing the taste, before you poured it out over his neck.  
"Mmmm," he hummed, a growl tapering the end of it. This time when he took a puff your lips lingered next to his and you inhaled without ever touching his lips, sucking the smoke through an invisible straw. You let it out slowly, watching it obscure his face as he took another drag, glowing embers of the cigarette climbing closer to his mouth. He blew it at your face, making your eyes water as you coughed, waving the smoke out of the air.  
He tapped out the half stick in an ashtray, sliding both hands down over your body as you came back to a steady, though shallow, breathing pattern. He touched you again, down there, smirking. "Hnhn, you're soaked," he growled as his fingers pet your sensitive parts. He worked you to a pant, 'til you nearly choked on the smoke-saturated air. Every sensation was suddenly heightened. You rocked with his strokes, pushing your forehead against his shoulder.  
"Sir, please," you moaned.  
"What do you want?"  
"I want--"  
"No, don't _tell_ me," he said impatiently, pressing hard on your clit. You yelped. "Show me."  
You were shaking so bad from the need and nicotine, it was almost impossible to bring your fingers to his slacks. You touched him tentatively though the material before fumbling them open and baring his erection. You weren't even looking yet and it made you blush.  
"Well are you just going to stare at it?" he chided, applying a slow stroke to your labia. You gasped, eyes snapping open. The sight of his rigid cock made you jolt forward and groan, burying your face in his neck. A hand pressed a small package into yours and you opened your eyes again only to open it and roll the condom onto his cock. Again you squeezed your eyes shut, and grabbed blindly for his shaft, easing yourself down onto it at first, but then taking nearly all of him at once.  
"OHMYGOD!"  
You heard him suck a sharp breath through his teeth and looked up to see his head tipped back against the chair, eyes closed and brow wrinkled. He usually tried so hard not to react.  
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, palms heating up at the slight friction against the fabric of his jacket as you began to ride him slowly.  
"Ah, Mor-Moriarty..." The name tasted like dark chocolate and cigarette. It was deliciously dangerous. Your breathing grew ragged as you picked up the pace, and you could hear his breathing halt and restart once in awhile.  
His fingers dug bruises into your sides as he guided you at an angle. Now his eyes were open again, halfway, and he looked to the side, attention half focused on some thought.  
Without hint or warning you drove yourself down hard on his cock.  
"HAH!" His eyes opened wide and so did his mouth as he bucked up into you involuntarily, hitting your g-spot dead on.  
"Ohh, ah! Ohhh Jim..."  
He grabbed your throat and brought you down to his face, brown eyes glaring. "I never said you could use my first name...nnn..." And his face melted into an expression of pleasure as you clenched deliciously around him. His grip on your throat eased, head relaxing back against the chair again, and you let your lips fall to his. He kissed you languidly, licking down to your neck, where he rubbed his unshaven face back and forth across your skin. You shivered, spurred closer to your climax.  
"Ah, I'm..."  
"Do it," he moaned. "Augh, DO IT!"  
You rode him faster, harder, driving him deeper into you until that spot inside of you was struck again and your vision burst into stars.  
"M-Moriarty! Ah!"  
You forced your eyes to stay open so you could watch him come, his bottom lip sucked between his sharp top row of teeth. Your head dropped to his shoulder then, and this time, for the first time, he held you tenderly.


End file.
